A Permanent State Of Transition Is Man's

The Greatest Assassin Of Life Is Haste, The Desire To Reach Things Before The Right Time Which Means Overreaching Them.

…perhaps This Momentary Life Of Ours Is Only The Light That Divides Our Infinite Origin From Our Infinite End.

The Urban Man Is An Uprooted Tree, He Can Put Out Leaves, Flowers And Grow Fruit But What A Nostalgia His Leaf, Flower, And Fruit Will Always Have For Mother Earth!

Some Of My Affectionate Envious Friends Say, "you Write Too Much." Maybe, I Answer. But As Long As The Best Of Your Little Is Worse Than The Worst Of My Much, I Will Keep On Doing So.

I Unpetalled You, Like A Rose, To See Your Soul, And I Didn't See It. But Everything Around -horizons Of Land And Of Seas-, Everything, Out To The Infinite, Was Filled With A Fragrance, Enormous And Alive.